Dragonbite
by Eliza Sugarcane
Summary: Charlie Weasley has a very dangerous job. This is just one of his many visits to St Mungos.


The first thing Caitlin sees is his leg. His strong, hairy leg.

And the bite. Nasty looking, very deep, oozing some sort of yellow fluid and absolutely fascinating.

It looks like the textbook example of a dragon bite and Caitlin fights the sudden urge to sketch it or take pictures, so she will never forget her first encounter with a real dragon bite.

A short look at the file gives her his name and profession. Dragonologist, well that certainly explains the injury he obtained. Oh how she loves people with dangerous jobs, they make hers so much more interesting, and Dragonology is very close to the top of the list with the most dangerous jobs. Plus they actually end up in her speciality and not on fourth floor with the healers that handled spell damage. "Good morning Mr Weasley, I am Healer Fletcher" saying that still gives her a kick. It feels unreal talking to a real patient, with a real injury. Caitlin has to stop herself from appearing to excited, that would not be professional, but all she wants to do is grin until her face splits in half. "What exactly happened here? Am I right in the presumption, that that was a dragon?" He nods and murmurs an affirmation as she leans in closer to see how deep the wound is and how much damage the surrounding tissue has obtained before straightening again. "Was the breed poisonous? And how would you rate your pain-levels on a scale of one to ten, where one is mild discomfort and ten the worst you can imagine?" It's moments like this that Caitlin loves most about her job. The feeling of calm focus that overcomes her when she's faced with a patient in pain and an endless list of options to help said patient. Her mind whirs like a well oiled machine as she listens to his answers and plans the next steps for treating the wound. Not poisonous and about a five for the pain. That is good, antidotes were sometimes hard to come by and keeping a poisoned patient stable could prove very tricky. She really can do without that on a Monday. "I am going to clean the bite now, that might sting a little." slipping her wand from the holster on her arm and casting a _Tergeo_ is automatic by now. He winced and she has to suppress a grin, it is always the big, strong men who are the most sensitive, although this one, judging by his rather large file and the many small scars on his legs and arms, seems to be quite used to getting injured. The rest of the healing process doesn't require much concentration so Caitlin tries to distract her patient from the discomfort by making a bit of conversation and she learns some rather interesting things about dragons and how one avoids being eaten by them. And that is when she notices his eyes. They have to be the bluest eyes she's ever seen and he somehow manages to look both amused and indulgent when she jokes about him not being particularly good at avoiding angry dragons. That look sents shivers down her spine and she feels her cheeks blush and her hands tremble ever so slightly as she carefully wraps the bandage around his thigh and secures it with practised ease. Charlie Weasley is just her type and now that she is done and allows herself to slip from what she calls her "healer headspace" she can't help but react to him. One of his big, calloused, just _perfect_ hands lands heavy on her shoulder and his voice, oh that _voice_ , vibrates through her mind when he pushes himself off the stretcher and praises her "That was very good healing. Thank you." Caitlin could feel her face flush and looks up at him, now looming over her, tall and broad as he is. "Thank you Mr Weasley, I try my best." "Charlie please. Mr Weasley is my father." The look in his eyes makes her want to drop to her knees and do whatever it takes to please him and she has to remind herself that these urges are not socially acceptable. She should really get a grip on herself. She is a healer, a strong, independent woman, and just because she has wanted Charlie Weasley, who was two years above her in Hogwarts, since she was fourteen, does not mean she should forget that. Straightening her spine she smiles up at him "Well then Charlie, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope we don't see each other again soon." He chuckles and grabs his jacket, leather. _Of course_ he has a leather jacket. "So if I were to ask you when you would be free for dinner, would you say no?" A/N: English is not my native language, please let me know if anything sounds weird or is wrong. I have had this short little story stuck in my brain for a very long time now and felt like I needed to get it out there. I really hope it wasn't entirely horrible. Thank you for reading, Eliza 


End file.
